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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29250246">Aftersome</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slater_Babe/pseuds/Slater_Babe'>Slater_Babe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Headcanons by Slater [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Narcos (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguments, Babies, Confessions, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Living Together, Moving In Together, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Realization of Feelings, Referenced sexual activity, Some Humor, Songfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy, mentioned fuck buddy relationship, mentions of abortions, no beta we die like men, non-explicit birth giving, very slight angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:20:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29250246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slater_Babe/pseuds/Slater_Babe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You thought you knew what you were getting into with Javier Peña. He was an eternal bachelor, a free spirit, and god help anyone who tried to chain him down.</p><p>But when the worst case scenario comes to rear its head, you find yourself astonished by how willingly Javier accepts the shackles.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Javier Peña/Original Female Character(s), Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Headcanons by Slater [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aftersome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thors_Drawers/gifts">Thors_Drawers</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello!! Hello~~ okay so back again with more pregnancy headcanons! I want to personally thank Thors_Drawers for requesting this!! As always, if you want any specific headcanons for any of the Pedro characters, leave a comment down below or send me an ask on Tumblr!! Also, I didn't intend for this to get super angsty aksdkljajf but I was tryna be realistic about Javi's character, but I promise there's a happy ending!!</p><p>Also, I was listening to Prince's When Doves Cry while writing this, so its basically the spirit of this story, so I'll link the song down below if you want the vibes for this piece!!</p><p>The quote at the beginning of the story was NOT written by me!!! It is one of the definitions from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, which is linked below!!</p><p> </p><p>My Tumblr: <a href="https://slater-baby.tumblr.com">slater-baby</a></p><p>Song For This Piece: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTUSeac7IuQ">When Doves Cry by Prince</a></p><p>Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows: <a href="https://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com">Here</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h4>Aftersome</h4>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><em>adj.</em> astonished to think back on the bizarre sequence of accidents that brought you to where you are today—as if you’d spent years bouncing down a Plinko pegboard, passing through a million harmless decision points, any one of which might’ve changed everything—which makes your long and winding path feel fated from the start, yet so unlikely as to be virtually impossible.</p>
</blockquote><div class="center">
  <p>------</p>
</div>You knew from the beginning what you were getting into with Javier Peña.<p>His reputation preceded him in all the worst ways: the midnight hookers, the morning alcohol, the callous personality, combined with the best time a girl could ever have. He was a long island iced tea of everything your mother would hope you’d never touched, let alone dealt with on a daily basis. </p><p>The first time you met Javier, it wasn’t on any sort of unprofessional basis--further exacerbating your confusion as to how it got this bad. </p><p>You were just a secretary, and he was the star agent on the biggest case in the country. There was no reason you should have mixed. And yet, even if the bar was fully stocked with every combination under the sun, he chose to drink from your bottle. It was indecent and shameful, the way he got you between the sheets, and even between paperwork sometimes. (You would <em>die</em> before anyone ever found out Javi ate you out against the evidence lockers in the back room, even if it was the best time you’d ever had with a man.)</p><p>Javi just knew how to give it. </p><p>He knew the right spots, but knew when to back off. He knew when to push you, and when to pull you in. It was rhythmic and painful and <em>perfect</em> and <em>everything you wanted</em> but everything your heart <em>didn’t need.</em></p><p>Because that’s what it was like with Javi, the moment the heart came into play, he’d be walking out the door before a second thought. </p><p>Standing here in your bathroom, that’s all you could think about: him walking out the door. </p><p>Because now that you’d let it go on for so long, let it get this bad, you had to take responsibility for your actions, and the price you’d pay was a lot more than you think he’d be willing to bear. Because it wasn’t even just the heart anymore. It was the brain, the body, the will, <em>and</em> the wallet. It was everything and all. It was a baby-- and it was <em>his</em> baby. And you just knew Javi couldn’t accept that.</p><p>And you’d originally be proven right on all counts. </p><p>You’d invited him over after work one night, and just by the tone of your voice, he could tell something was wrong. Walking through your entryway, toeing his shoes off to lay next to a pair of your heels, he makes his way further into your house, only to freeze when he sees you walk into his line of sight. Your face is red with exhaustion, eyes and cheeks brimming with tears, and immediately he feels unprepared. </p><p><em>Had the day finally come? Had he unknowingly brought the horrors of his life into your life?</em> </p><p>“What’s wrong, <em>mi alma</em>? Are you okay?” he looks around the room with the question, as if he was scanning the room for some invisible threat or one of the profiles he mulled over at work. </p><p>“Javi,” you say with tears in your voice. </p><p>“<em>Mi alma</em>, tell me what’s wrong,” he nearly begs, “What if I--you didn’t--you’re not hurt are you?” </p><p>He reaches out to touch your face, staring into your eyes with delusions of his own, which only make you cry harder. </p><p>“I swear, if anything happened, I’ll take care of it. Just please--”</p><p>“<em>Javi</em>,” you plead, now standing in his embrace, face buried harshly against his sternum, soaking up the panicked beat of his heart as if it would be the last time you heard it. </p><p>“Javi…” you repeat one more time, and he doesn’t answer, doesn’t even move a muscle. You finally find it in yourself to take a deep breath, shuddering with the way your ribs expand before you say it: “Javi, I’m pregnant...and it’s yours.”</p><p>The instant the words leave your mouth, you can feel him stiffen, and it’s then you know you’ve lost him. </p><p>He does walk out that night, more or less. </p><p>You kicked him out, actually, but you pin the blame firmly on him. You knew it wouldn’t go over easy, but what you didn’t know was that the first words out of his mouth would be “terminate it.” Needless to say, you slapped him backhanded across the face, a motion he gladly accepted until the yelling started. And then it was to hell with any sympathetic pretenses. So you kicked him out, and he gladly went.</p><p>You spent several weeks in silence, tension hanging heavy between the halls of the apartment building you shared with the other embassy employees. You ordered take out every night, watching shitty telenovelas, trying to imagine what you’d do if Javi was here with you. Would he sling his arm around your shoulders? Would he laugh at the awkward camera angles and amateur acting? Would he kiss you on the side of the head, tell you he loved you with 10x more sincerity than when the actors on the TV said it? The role didn’t fit him, and anyone who’s even spared a glance at the man would know it. He stands out like a sore thumb among the frills of conventional love, and a pregnancy surely wasn’t helping his case. </p><p>You tell yourself <em>never</em> a thousand times over. You knew what you were getting into with Javi—Javi the eternal bachelor, the guy who’s slept with about every woman in the hemisphere. And just as you hit one-thousand-one times over, there’s a knock at your door. </p><p>He stands there, leaning on the door frame with watery eyes, hair shuffled effortlessly across his bronze forehead. Just at the sight of him, you move to close the door, but he catches it before it can close.</p><p>“<em>Mi alma—</em>“ </p><p>“<em>Don’t</em> say that Javi, don’t do this to me. You <em>can’t.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Mi alma</em>,” he says again and you break. You walk back over to the couch and bury your face in your hands, overwhelming sadness spilling out of you with every choked off sob. Gently you feel him sit down next to you; he leans in, almost like he wants to touch you, but is unsure of how to do it. You sit there and cry pitifully in front of him until your tears run dry.</p><p>He just sits patiently waiting, hardly moving, even. It’s only when the silence has stretched for too long and your breathing has evened out that he says it: “<em>Mi alma,</em> I want this. I want <em>you.”</em> </p><p>And from then on, everything falls back.</p><p>It’s not sex and hurried touches at the office, it’s time spent hashing out the details, putting the pen to paper, and figuring things out. In those weeks, you almost get whiplash at the Javier you see now. </p><p>He’s thought of everything to a perfect T. He’s got the money, mind, and focus to give you everything you need, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do it. </p><p>However, for as much as the numbers match and the set of his brow remains furrowed, the awkwardness remains. </p><p>It’s not about you at all. He’s been comfortable with you for a long time, knows everything about you and vice versa. </p><p>It’s the <em>baby.</em></p><p>At first, it worried you. Maybe he was having second thoughts, maybe you’d go a couple months and he’d suddenly rescind his support. </p><p>But after the first couple ultrasounds, in which he sat beside the bed holding your hand encouragingly, bouncing his knee rapidly with nervousness, you realize he’s not regretting the situations. </p><p><em>He’s scared to become a father.</em> </p><p>Honestly, you’d be lying if you said you knew Javier would be a good dad. He was a raunchy DEA agent with a past of heartbreak and bloodshed; lord knows that doesn’t bode well.</p><p>But when you see him lovingly look at your unborn baby on the doctor’s monitor, leg finally stopping its menial movement, you figure you don’t need to worry too much. And since then, the apprehension is cute, if anything. </p><p>He touches your belly with curiosity as it grows, obviously fascinated by your figure but unwilling to admit he loves the way it looks. You think he holds himself back during the day, but during the nights when he stays over at your place, you can hear him whisper promises to your unborn baby in Spanish, something he himself might not even be aware of. Your heart swells with every word.</p><p>He’s absolutely clueless about buying things—which makes it just that much more hilarious when he buys two of just about everything. Two mobiles, two teddy bears that are entirely too big for a newborn, two strollers, two car seats. You laugh at the sight, and he blushes furiously as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, only to go wide eyed when you pounce on him in a hug, kissing his cheeks between giggles.</p><p>Javi moves in hardly a week after that, and you watch as he paints the walls of the room you’ve dedicated as your nursery. He doesn’t talk about the baby much, mostly because you know he’s still worried about what the future holds, but the way he carefully assembles the furniture and arranges them around the room tells you everything you need to know.</p><p>You’ve taken maternity leave, spending your time at home reading books and listening to records while Javi works on continuing his never ending hunt for Escobar. </p><p>There is one night when he comes home from work, sitting down on the couch before laying his head on your chest, and you can feel the air shift. You put your book down when his hand cradles your swollen stomach. You look down at him with caring eyes and he looks back. </p><p>“Y’know I love you, right?” he says softly, and even if it’s the first time you’ve heard it from him, you’re not surprised. </p><p>“I know,” you reply just as quietly, brushing a hand through his hair just to watch fall back into place. </p><p>His hands brush over your belly button, and you know the second vow goes unspoken.</p><p>Javi’s at work when you go into labor which is stressful in and of itself, but the way the nurse’s hair just about goes gray with all the questions and worries Javier bombards her with when he does get there is amusing in its own right. Before you know it, you’re smiling through the pain, laughing shortly at Javi’s nervous jokes between bouts of contractions. He holds your hand through it all, finally having steeled his nerves. He watches your face contort in pain, watches with bated breath as your body brings his child into life for the first time. As the hour draws nearer, he gets quieter and quieter, eyes drawn between your legs, eagerly waiting to meet the son or daughter he already loved more than life itself.</p><p>When a soft cry erupts minutes later, Javi doesn’t know what to do with himself. </p><p>He stands in silent awe while you cradle your baby against your chest, bronze skin matching his with a pile of already unruly curls matted on top. But he’s got your soft nose and darling face, and Javi can’t help but admire what a perfect split it is. </p><p>When you fall asleep and the nurses place his child in his arms for the first time, he feels time itself pause. He spends the moment trying to learn his new son, trying to gauge a personality that isn’t even there yet by staring into eyes that haven’t opened...and even if he feels helpless and uninformed already, he kisses his child on the head in assurance that he’d do <em>everything</em> he could to protect them from that moment onwards. </p><p>For the first time in a long time, he cries.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, once home from the hospital, Javi is just as worried as he was before. He’s practically covered the house in bubble wrap to avoid any collisions, the entire fridge is a battalion of soft food, and he’s got a diaper bag stocked and ready to go at a moment's notice. He holds your son—named Marco after one of Javi’s uncles—like he’s made of glass, pressing kisses to his head with gentle precision every morning.</p><p>As the months go by, Javi fits into the role of ‘father’ perfectly. He’s still meticulous and careful as always, but he’s louder and more sure of himself than he used to be. He likes laying on the floor when he gets from work, chuckling for hours on end as the baby tugs excitedly at his tie and briefcase, finally happy to see his daddy come home.</p><p>When things settle down and work picks up, you pull some of the paperwork off of Javi’s shoulders and do it at home, claiming <em>“just because I pushed your son out of my vagina a month ago doesn’t mean I couldn’t fold you if I wanted to, you beanstalk.”</em></p><p>Needless to say, Javi has complete faith in your white collar abilities.</p><p>Every Sunday, Javi takes you and Marco out for brunch at a local café, relishing in the coos and comments the old church ladies make at his son when they walk by. God, the boy’s barely six months old and he’s already so proud of him. Over those brunches the two of you talk about the future—about white picket fences, dogs, station wagons—everything. </p><p>And Javi finds leaving the night life for something like this was a move he should have made years ago.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, when Olivia is adopted by Steve and Connie, Javi finally has an excuse to be a complete dad <em>all the time.</em> And of course, because <em>testosterone</em>, he finds some way to make it a competition.</p><p>In fact, Javi even went to the store just to buy a baby-carrier because he saw Steve wearing one, and for some reason felt the need to <em>out-dad</em> the other. </p><p>At first, it’s just some alpha male bullshit.</p><p>But after seeing Javi joke around with Steve in the park one day during a walk between both of your families—aviators on, cigarettes in his back pocket, leather jacket donned proudly as usual—but now with a babbling, wriggling, 8 month old baby strapped to his chest, you can’t help but feel like everything’s falling together.</p><p>The truth was you’d <em>never</em> known what you’d get when you got involved with Javier Peña. </p><p>Sure, his reputation preceded him in all the worst ways—the hookers, the day drinking, the chain smoking and heartbreaking. </p><p>But watching him curled up on the couch after a long day at work, Marco snuggled happily against the collar of his button-up shirt, you decided you’d take every flaw with every perfection when it came to Javier Peña, and it’s definitely safe to say your mother approved of him now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all so much for reading~~ just as a reminder, these were originally bullet head canons, which is why the story is not nearly as fleshed out as it could have been~ nevertheless, I hope you all enjoyed it!! Remember to comment or send an ask if you have a request!!</p><p> </p><p>My Tumblr: <a href="https://slater-baby.tumblr.com">slater-baby</a></p><p>Song For This Piece: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTUSeac7IuQ">When Doves Cry by Prince</a></p><p>Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows: <a href="https://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com">Here</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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